I don't own The Mentalist or its characters …..
A piece of pure fluff – done a million times before but I couldn't help myself.
Happy New Year everyone!
It hit him suddenly that this was the first time, in a long time, that he liked moonlight. It's cool light peeked in through the window and created a soft glow across the bed. His face softened as he followed the path of the light and focused on the person next to him. Yes, moonlight could be beautiful.
But it hadn't been, for many years. He'd lost track of the nights he'd lain awake, the moonlight literally highlighting his inability to sleep, to rest. It accompanied him in the horrible darkness that resided, not in the room, but in his soul.
He'd awoken often, from a nightmare made more horrible by its reality, to the cool light shining across his cold and sweaty body. I had been with him as he suffered the pain, the guilt, the agony of his loss.
He hadn't liked the moonlight then. In fact, he'd come to hate it – waiting impatiently each night, for the warmth of the sun and daylight, which only partially served to distract his mind and heart from his new and tragic life.
But that had changed and now, although still unable to sleep, it was no longer because of his nightmares, but because his long unacknowledged dream had become reality.
So now he watched as the luminescence touched her cheek, giving her face an almost unearthly glow.
He grinned at that. No one would ever accuse Teresa of being unearthly, although to him she was an angel – his feisty little angel who had saved him, not only from the bad guys, but more importantly, from himself.
He wondered if she had any idea how much he loved her? He was pretty sure she didn't, because he couldn't express it, not in any words he knew. His words to her, on that plane, had been honest and true but so very, very inadequate. It frustrated him, but also gave him a purpose. He'd just have to spend the rest of his life showing her how much she meant to him.
He smiled again. He's started showing her last night and it had been – beyond wonderful. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the physical side of a relationship. He had lost all desire after he'd lost his wife. His body, just as much as his mind and heart, had been numb with pain and loss. It was only after he'd fulfilled his goal of destroying the man who had destroyed his family that he had begun to really feel again.
With those feelings had come – stirrings of desire. The one time with Lorelei hadn't been desire, but purpose and intent. He hadn't been sure she was with Red John, but he'd suspected. That, along with the daze he'd been in due to alcohol and the beating, had allowed him to turn to his base nature. It had been physically pleasurable, but the next morning he'd felt – soiled.
During his time in South America he hadn't really had any opportunity to worry about desire or a physical relationship. Except for the odd tourist, there wasn't really any one with whom he could have a relationship. Kim had intrigued him, and, to be honest with himself, he'd found her attractive.
But that had gone nowhere – thank goodness. Because even then he'd known. There was someone for him, although he figured he'd lost any hope since he was a fugitive and couldn't return to the United States.
But then he'd been given the chance and he'd grasped it – deciding it was worth the consequences.
And he'd almost screwed it up. He still couldn't believe that he'd almost lost her, almost let her walk away from him. It was one of the few times in his life where he'd been truly selfless – and it had backfired spectacularly.
Even now his heart was beating too fast, his breath coming too quickly, as he thought about her leaving on that plane. If he'd continued to be a fool he would now be lying here, alone – still hating the moonlight.
Thanks to that lawyer – what was his name – he'd pulled himself together and told her how he felt, in the most spectacularly dramatic way possible. Oh well, he was ever the showman! But this time it hadn't been a performance – or if it was, it was the performance of his life.
And it had been a triumphant success. Not because of him, but because of the beautiful woman who slept beside him, her face glowing in the soft light. She had decided to take a chance on him, to love him in spite of all the faults she knew so well.
He thought back to the past few days, at how surreal they had been. His life had changed overnight. He'd gone from the man with the tragic past with nothing to live for, to a man with everything to live for.
He reached out and gently – so gently – laid the back of his hand against her cheek. She stirred slightly, moving her face towards him, although she didn't waken. He felt an overwhelming desire to reach out, to take her in his arms, but he resisted. Instead he stared at her, taking in her beauty. She was no longer a very young woman, but she had the kind of looks that lasted. Yes, there were little lines at the corners of her eyes but they simply added to the character that was evident in her face. She was a woman who had done so much and it showed and she was all the more beautiful because of it.
It had been strange, those first few hours after they'd let him leave the airport. Fortunately he'd ended up getting nothing more than a severe reprimand and he'd promised never to do anything like that again. He'd wanted to laugh – wondering if the TSA agent thought he made a habit of declaring his love to random women on airplanes. But he'd agreed and been released.
It had been slightly awkward as his ankle had swollen up and was reasonably painful. He'd insisted he could walk and had gotten Teresa's "don't be an idiot, Jane" look. It had warmed him to his toes.
She'd insisted on getting a wheelchair and had wheeled him to the taxi. His things were still at the Blue Bird and Abbott had given him a two-week suspension – with pay – for his little "stunt" as he called it.
Jane had grinned and thanked the man, knowing exactly what he was up to. Teresa felt badly, but he assured her it was fine with him. He'd leaned over and whispered that now they could spend time together.
She'd been given two weeks as well, to put her affairs back in order, now that she'd requested that her transfer be cancelled. She had to get her things back – which were all packed and ready to be transported to DC and contact her landlord to tell him she was staying. She'd given Jane a punch in the shoulder for that one.
So they had two weeks before going back to work – and neither of them had quite known what to do after they'd acknowledged their feelings for one another.
It was funny really, he thought as he snuggled a little closer to her. Neither of them was particularly shy – although they both could be, depending on circumstances. But there had been some awkwardness at first. He knew it was to be expected. They had known one another and been friends for many years. Now they were moving into uncharted territory, into a different kind of relationship.
He snorted as he thought about those first few hours after leaving the airport. Once they'd gotten into the cab there had been silence. Neither of them quite knew what to do or say. And then he'd gone and fallen asleep!
Of course it was to be expected. It's not like he'd been able to get much sleep since he'd found out that Teresa was leaving. He'd spent hours lying awake at night, in despair once again at the intense feeling of loss that filled him.
And then he'd spent an entire night sitting in an uncomfortable chair at the airport.
The warmth from the Florida sun, the hum of the taxi and the presence of the woman he loved at his side had lulled him to sleep. He'd probably looked ridiculous! He just hoped he hadn't snored or drooled.
Teresa had shaken him awake when they arrived back at the hotel – an expression he had never seen on her face before. He'd stared at her for a moment, confused, when it dawned on him that she was looking at him with tenderness and – love.
He had actually felt his eyes fill – and to avoid extreme embarrassment had turned away and fumbled his way out of the car. Teresa followed, although now her expression showed confusion and concern. She probably wondered if she'd done something wrong.
Standing beside the cab, balanced precariously on one foot, he'd reached for her and pulled her towards him. "I'm just not used to someone -" he stopped as his throat constricted.
"Someone what?" she'd asked gently.
"Caring for me – like this," he'd said softly. That had earned him a fierce hug. After a few moments – and her attempt to hide her sniffles – they'd made their way slowly and awkwardly into the hotel.
They hadn't discussed any kind of arrangements other than the fact that they were flying back to Austen the next day. Teresa had checked out of her room and he didn't know whether she expected to stay with him – or not.
He grimaced slightly as they hobbled to the front desk. Of course he wanted her with him – hell, he would like nothing better. But he worried that it was too soon. Jumping right in to bed together – although a wonderful thought – might get in the way of them working out where they were going with this relationship.
His trepidation and confusion must have transferred to Lisbon, because she stopped and looked at him.
"Uh – we didn't – talk about this," she had said.
"I know," he had replied, a crooked grin on his face. "You know – there's nothing I'd like more than -"
"But it's too soon," she had finished his sentence. "I know," she sighed. "But – I don't want to wait too long."
"Thank you," he'd said, with a sigh of relief and a small grin. "Too long would kill me." He'd pulled back then and looked her in the eyes. With a deep breath he continued. "I desire you, more than you could possibly know."
"Oh, I know," she'd answered with a smile. She had then leaned forward and given him a soft kiss. "Because I feel the same way."
He'd chuckled at the repeat of the words she'd used to him in the TSA office. "So, you need a room."
"I guess I do," she'd said, sounding sad. That too had made him feel good.
And then the cliché had happened. The hotel was booked solid – no rooms available.
"You can bunk with me," he'd said, not looking at her. "I promise to stay on my side of the bed."
"Okay," she'd answered, her lip between her teeth. "If you're sure you're okay with this?"
"I'm fine Teresa, as long as you are."
"Of course. You're so tired and I'm sure will sleep even if I am sharing – the other side of the bed."
"I look that bad do I?" he'd grimaced, deciding not to comment anymore about their sleeping arrangement. "I admit to feeling a little bit tired." At her look he'd relented. "Okay – I'm exhausted. Climbing fences and running across runways is not something for a man of my age."
"Your age!" She'd rolled her eyes. "You're in great shape. I expect it has more to do with getting in trouble and spending a night being interrogated by TSA agents."
"Twits!" he'd said in disgust.
"They were just doing their jobs," she'd told him. "Now to bed."
They'd made their way to his room, which had been cleaned – fortunately. He didn't want Teresa to see the evidence of his pity soaked orgy of drinking. He must have gone through two of those little bottles before everyone had burst into his room. He wondered what the mini-fridge bill would be.
She'd helped him to the bed and then had removed his shoes – the one causing quite a bit of discomfort. After then helping him out of his jacket she had looked sternly at him. "Sleep."
"What are you going to do?" he'd asked drowsily.
"I have to make a phone call."
He'd known instantly that she meant she was going to call Pike. After his question earlier to her about Pike he'd promptly forgotten the man. But it was obvious that Teresa hadn't. And if her expression was any indication (which he knew it was) she was dreading this call.
Which made him dread it as well.
He pushed himself up – his heart now pounding in trepidation. Pike was a much better man than him. What if –
Teresa suddenly sat down on the bed and wrapped her arms around him. "Don't worry," she'd whispered.
"But – what if he convinces you to change your mind." He had known he sounded shaky and vulnerable – and felt horribly uncomfortable letting his emotions show. It was something he usually avoided at all costs.
"I'm not going to change my mind Patrick," she'd said – and she had sounded very definite. "Don't you understand – I have been waiting for you for a long, long time. I thought you didn't want me and so was willing to try and start a life with Marcus – and yes, you don't have to tell me that was stupid. We were both idiots. But Patrick – I have never been happier than I am in this moment. I am not going to lose that – I'm not going to lose you. So you don't need to worry. Instead you need to go to sleep."
He slowly lay back down, his heart gradually slowing. He wasn't totally calm or confident but he knew he had to trust her – had to show her he trusted her. He nodded. "I'm sorry," he had told her then.
"Sorry?"
"That you have to go through this. That it's my fault that you have to do this. I know it's hard."
She had sighed and reached out and gently pushed back the hair, which had fallen down on his forehead. "It's not your fault – it's mine. I should never have agreed to go to DC with him when I knew I didn't love him. Don't take this one on Patrick – just – rest and then love me, that's all I ask."
"I do."
She had smiled at that and stood up. "Now sleep – because you owe me a really good dinner."
"You won't throw water in my face this time, will you?"
She had chuckled. "Not if you're good."
It hadn't take him long to fall asleep even though a part of him still worried. At this point there was nothing he could do. It was out of his hands.
He woke to a warm body spooned up against his back. Her arms were around him and her face was pressed into his neck. He had felt a sudden release of tension – and tremendous relief. She was back.
It had only been as he had settled back to try and sleep some more that he realized. She was crying. He swiftly turned over, putting his arms around her. "Teresa?"
"It's okay," she'd answered, her voice muffled into his chest. "It was just – hard."
"I'm so sorry love," he'd said, kissing the top of her head, which was all he could see of her.
"He really loved me."
"Of course he did," he'd answered. "He knows what a jewel you are."
"Jewel?" she'd choked, half crying, half laughing.
"Mmm hmm – definitely a jewel." He didn't speak for a few moments, knowing she just needed to cry. It would take a while for her to deal with the guilt and the grief and all he could do was support her. He actually felt sorry for Pike who really was a decent guy.
"I'm sorry," she had finally sniffed and lifted her hand to wipe her face. "I just feel badly for hurting him." Without warning she had lifted her head and had given him one of her best death glares. "This doesn't mean I've changed my mind," she had told him fiercely. "So don't go getting all worried. I don't love Marcus and I'm not leaving you – I just hated to hurt him."
"I get it Teresa." He'd had to stop himself from grinning in total relief – and joy, if he were being honest, but he didn't stop himself from leaning forward and kissing her. "Of course you feel badly – he's a decent guy – although you know that you did the right thing don't you – and not just because of me?"
"I know," she'd sighed. "It would have been a huge mistake to go to DC – and I think he knows that too. It's just -"
He'd leaned forward and kissed her again, this time more slowly. The kiss soon began to turn more passionate and thoughts of Pike disappeared as the two of them explored one another and their new relationship.
He had broken away from her suddenly, breathing loudly. "Uh – Teresa – if we keep going -"
"Yeah," she had answered, panting heavily. "Damn – who's idea was it to take things slowly?"
"I think it was a mutual decision," he'd answered, lying back on the bed, his arm across his eyes. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Neither of them had spoken after that, and the room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing. The quiet had soon been broken, however, by a soft chuckle.
"This is – so strange," she had said. "I still can't believe it."
"Mmm – I must admit I'm having a little trouble believing it myself," he'd answered. "But it's good, right?"
"Very good." She had turned then, to look at him, her head balanced on her arm. "What time is it?"
"Uh – almost 5 o'clock," he'd answered, after looking at his watch.
"Well then, I think I'm going to shower and change. I made a reservation downstairs for 6 o'clock."
"Really?" he had grimaced. "You're sure you want to go there?"
"Of course," she'd grinned. "I'm not the one who had a glass of water thrown at me. And I promise not to throw anything else at you, except maybe for a few hot glances!"
He'd grinned. "That sounds much better. Uh – we have to dress up to eat there though," he'd reminded her quietly. He didn't know what she'd done with the dresses he'd bought her, but suspected she'd left them at the hotel when she'd gone to the airport. He didn't really want to broach the subject, which was still a sore one.
"That's okay. I – uh – got the dresses from the hotel," she said softly. "They really are beautiful."
He had swallowed then, his eyes refusing to look at her. "I'm so sorry love," he had said. "I want you to know I didn't do it to hurt you."
"Of course I know. You will have to tell me – one day - what you were hoping to have happen with that plan. But not today. I've forgiven you – your stunt on the plane accomplished that. Now – I'm going to shower and change – and then it's your turn. By the way – how's your ankle?"
"Fine," he had answered as he had at the airport. "Now go! I'm hungry woman!"
He'd lain in bed, a silly grin on his face, all the time she was showering. His heart was so full of love and yes – happiness – that he didn't know quite how to handle it. It was as if he had to use muscles he hadn't used in years. He was rusty – but damn, it felt so good.
"What are you looking so pleased about?" she had asked as she came back into the room. He knew then that he really was in trouble – he hadn't even noticed the door opening.
"Hmm – let me think? Oh – I know. I got the girl."
She gave him a mischievous look. "Yes, and she got you!" his Teresa had informed him.
"And that's why I'm even happier," he'd answered. "Now, my turn!"
She'd helped him to the bathroom – although his ankle was actually feeling better. Still, he wasn't going to miss out on any opportunity to have Teresa's arms around him.
Their dinner that evening had been nothing short of magical. They'd talked and laughed – and flirted up a storm. They'd both gotten a bit tipsy on champagne and had eaten way too much. She'd looked gorgeous, this time in the white dress. He'd had a brief moment thinking that he'd like to see her in another kind of white dress, one day. But he'd put a stop to that thought, knowing it was too soon to go there.
After dinner they'd walked out to the hotel patio and had watched the ocean and looked at the stars. By the time they'd returned to the room Patrick was feeling relaxed, happy – and yes, tired again.
He had yawned – and his was followed almost immediately by one from Teresa.
"You have to be tired too," he'd said. "I wasn't thinking - you didn't sleep last night either, did you?"
"No – I spent a long time waiting for them to let me in to see you. But it's okay – it was worth it."
"It was," he'd nodded, "but it's time for you to get to bed."
There was a moment of awkwardness as they arrived at their room – but both of them were exhausted. Once ready for bed they climbed in and cuddled up to one another – and were soon sound asleep.
Of course the next morning was even more awkward. Waking up pressed up to someone, when you were trying to "go slow" wasn't the easiest thing in the world. Patrick had wanted nothing so much as to make mad, passionate love to her – and his body was trying to overrule his mind, which kept saying they'd agreed to wait.
"Uh – I'll go shower," she'd said, seeming to realize that he was on edge. He had also suspected she had been perfectly aware of his physical state so he'd just nodded, not saying anything until she was gone.
"Damn! You are an idiot Patrick Jane. A beautiful woman in your arms and you let her go!"
They'd spent the morning walking on the beach – Patrick had insisted his ankle was better. After that they'd made their way to the airport and then home to Austen.
Arriving in Austen was another moment of discomfort. Patrick really didn't want to return, alone, to his Airstream but also didn't want to presume and invite himself over to Teresa's. It was her comment about everything being packed away that gave him the excuse.
"Let me come over and help," he'd said. "Since it's my – okay – partially my fault everything is packed up the least I can do is help you."
"Are you sure? You don't have to do that."
"I want to, Teresa. And it means I can spend more time with you," he had admitted.
They'd spent the next few moments grinning stupidly at one another but she'd agreed and he'd stayed to help her unpack.
It was a great day and had been totally comfortable with one another. They had after all, known each other for years. It wasn't until he was helping her make up her bed that the tension sprung up again.
"Oh hell!" she'd said, plopping down on the bed. "This is ridiculous Patrick."
He followed her down, sitting beside her and not speaking for the moment. Finally he'd sighed and turned towards her. He'd reached up and gently swept her hair back from her face and then he'd kissed her – ever so gently.
"It is," he'd breathed, after a moment. "I want you Teresa."
"Thank God!" she'd answered and then had pulled him down so they were both lying on the bed. "So please – love me!"
And he had – and more than once, he was proud to say. As out of practice as he was, he was surprised at how quickly everything came back to him. He had to admit, of course, that Teresa had helped – a lot.
In the end they both lay together, tangled up, sweaty, exhausted and very, very happy. Teresa had fallen asleep quickly, but he'd found it hard to sleep. He was too full of forgotten emotions and feelings to rest. Instead he'd simply looked at her – at the woman who had brought him back to life. Her face now illuminated by the light, which shone in through the window.
It was then he realized. He no longer hated the moonlight. In fact, he loved it.
With a smile he closed his eyes, pulled her to him, and slept.
What he didn't know was that his own face was illuminated – not just by the moonlight which now shone on them both – but by an inner light of love and happiness.